I. Rivers Cuomo’s “Across the Sea” is my current jam, echoing the etat de vie of my foreign lover and me–minus the statutory rapey undertone (yes, I made “rape” an adjective). Well, the chorus at least. Well, the first two lines of the chorus.
Why are you so far away from me?
I need help and you’re way across the sea
I could never touch you
I think it would be wrong
I’ve got your letter
You’ve got my song
II. Said lover states that it is good to drink in prime numbers. I just have to decide which prime number for the eve.
III. Dreamt of a bushy*, red-headed ghost that made me chauffeur her about rural America. Worse, prior to being drafted into her service, she stole the parking spot (read: ditch between a gravel road and cornfield) that I had been patiently waiting for with her own car… Bushy ghosts!
*The linguistic hybrid of “bossy” and “pushy” coined in a drunken slur by RG.